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Fifteen minutes later, both Michael and his new roommate were sitting at the dining room table, the latter smoking her cigar and drinking one very strong glass of Brandy. Michael said nothing for a long time, settling instead for keenly observing the woman opposite of him. The avian tried to shift his weight a little as if to notify her that he was still here, occasionally shuffling the ice in his glass of Whiskey as well. He also did that to drown out the sound of North's snoring. In the complete and utter silence of the house, it sounded like a depressed sawmill. Every now and again he'd look down into his glass as if the ice perplexed him intensely. Upon concluding that the ice cubes would most likely melt in the foreseeable future he turned his attention back to the woman. On cue, North walked into the kitchen, still half-asleep and fully dazed. Both occupants of the dining table turned to look at the show that was unfolding in front of them. The woman looked because she was baffled that there was someone else inside the house besides her and the oddly well-dressed eagle that sat opposite of her. Michael was silently watching, anticipating his friend's every move but not settling on a single possibility. North's hair had taken it's rightful and common place, one bushel obstructing his left eye and the rest securely fastened behind his ear, allowing him a limited but still present field of vision. When unobserved North tended to walk into doorways, furniture, and unsuspecting household pets. This further stipulated Michael's assumption that his best friend had supernatural powers, mostly on account of North being able to see the TV from behind that blond mess on his head.

North was hungry, and that's all he could think about. He needed to eat something, preferably something that didn't involve leaving the house. In his almost-unconscious state he managed to stumble over a small box and a cable. Finally, he had reached the safety of the refrigerator. Reaching inside without even looking, his expression changed to one of surprise at the fact that said refrigerator was completely empty and he was grabbing at thin air. Michael observed with bated breath North's facial expressions. He went from confused to indifferent to even more confused within the span of maybe five seconds or so. Finally, he managed to grab something that felt like food and pulled it out. Greedily he began eating from inside a Chinese take-out box, using a single chopstick as his eating utensil of choice. Satisfied with filling his stomach, he left the box on the counter and smiled sleepily, hanging around in the vicinity of the refrigerator for a few more seconds. Wandering back to his couch, his safe haven, he decided to open his eyes. Standing on the seam between the tiles and the wooden floor, he laid eyes on the woman that sat opposite of Michael. She stood up to move the ashtray from the table, the entirety of her within sight. Moving his eyes up and down her body, he took her appearance in. Her hair was a dark brown, almost black but not quite, the color of a dirt road in low summer but prettier, almost reflective in nature. It was cut into a short, round shape, a single chunk of strands that would normally hang free secured to the side of her head with a clip, two ears protruding from the top of her head. She had two beautiful green eyes that looked so full of life, partly concealed by a pair of thin, modern eyeglasses. Her face was plain but somehow still enticing. Square-spotted pale gray fur descended down her neck from the point where her hair ended, her shoulders covered by her suit. A tie lay secured in the folds of her shirt. It was a gray business suit with a knee-high skirt that concealed just enough to leave the rest up to the imagination. More spotted fur appeared beneath her knees, the color changing due to the dark socks she wore. Her tail was visible from the front, gently swaying from side to side. She turned and faced Michael, extending one of her paws for him to shake. He did as was expected of him, her grip firm and steady.

"The name's Elizabeth, but you can call me Liz. You must be Michael. We spoke on the phone." With her paw on one of her hips, she emptied the last remains of her Brandy into the sink "I apologize if I reacted rudely but for a second I thought you two were reverse burglars or something, moving into other people's houses while they were away."

Her last remark caused the suddenly wide-awake North to laugh softly. Liz looked him over for the second time. "We should order dinner. Your pet zombie ate the last of it." She said, one corner of her mouth turned upwards. Michael chuckled and cast a glance at North that said "I like her already."

Upon tipping the Pizza boy, Michael brought the wide cardboard box into the living room, setting it down gently on the coffee table. Sounds of gunfire and controller mashing emanated from the region of the living room. Elizabeth sat to North's right, her face befitting that of a trigger-happy Rambo clone. North on the other hand looked like a kid on Christmas morning, his smile wide and friendly. If the fluorescent numbers at the top of the screen were any indication, she was beating him. Michael was left perplexed for a second time that day. When someone got the upper hand on North, which was an insanely difficult feat all on it's own, he'd respond through the visage of a Japanese samurai. Silent and menacing, he'd get up, fetch a different controller from his collection and beat whoever he was playing against. This was practically a rule. In their decade and a half's worth of being best friends, Michael never beat North at any game that took place on a screen, no matter how big or small. But this was new. Michael shot a glance at North and raised an eyebrow. No response. Shrugging to himself, Michael sat down on the unoccupied sofa and opened the box. Something on the screen beeped and the game paused. Two controllers fell down onto the table as North and Liz helped themselves.

"By the way, I'm fairly sure those noodles you had were expired." Liz said between bites, her left paw holding a slice of pizza and her right resting on her knee "But whatever floats your boat. I don't think we've been introduced. The name's Elizabeth. Call me Liz."

"Nice to meet you, Liz." The feline replied, swallowing a mouthful of pizza and wiping his palm on a paper towel "The name's North. No, I don't have any siblings called 'South', 'West', and 'East'." Liz chortled, almost choking on a bite as a result. Once she regained her composure and finished eating, she lit another cigar, shaking the ash into the empty carton. "So, tell me about yourselves. No use in just sitting around, eating in silence."

"I'm a writer." Michael replied, patting his knees proudly "I've already published a book. A collection of short stories. I've got a novel in the works and by the looks of things, I should be finished by December next year."

"So I take it you work from home?" Liz asked and Michael nodded in response "How about you, North? You work from home too?" She shifted her gaze to the cat who was apparently trying to get the game to unpause by staring at the controller. "Nope, I've got a job in a small game studio nearby. I'm a programmer."

Liz crossed her legs and leaned back "You look the type. So, besides your work, do you two have any hobbies?" She blew some smoke at the ceiling "Besides video games, that is."

North just shrugged. Michael, sensing a lull in the conversation, exclaimed enthusiastically "I'm trying to learn how to play the guitar. But besides that, I have a pilot's license and own a couple of guns that I go shooting on the weekends. You can come along if you'd like." He looked over to his feline friend who was playing with his tail "North just calls me a psychopath and looks disgusted when I ask him."

"Darn it, Mike. We talked about this. Guns kill people." North said, his face suddenly darker than usual. "Sure North, and spoons make you fat. I'm not re-hashing this discussion now."

"I hadn't figured you for a firearm enthusiast, what with your choice of wardrobe and all." Liz interjected, her eyes darting to the flawlessly polished dress shoes Mike wore. North seized the opportunity immediately "He looks like a penguin with a James Bond complex. Only Michael Bennet doesn't sound nowhere near cool enough." Liz burst out laughing, much to Michael's dismay. North was trying to impress her, the sly little weasel, he thought to himself and stood up. "Where are you going?" Liz asked."Bathroom. I'll be right back." With that, Michael left the room.

As he climbed up the steps, he hear laughter escaping the living room, followed by shooting sounds and the occasional swear followed by even more laughter. Michael was annoyed at what his best friend was doing. You could see it from outer space, he told himself, how does she not see what North is trying? For all he knew, Liz could have noticed and maybe she didn't mind. Even when he shut the door of the upstairs bathroom, he could still hear them. The bathroom was small but functional. A sink stood beneath a medicine cabinet with the toilet being right opposite it. To the left a bathtub with a shower curtain lay empty. In the bathroom he found the first of any signs that Liz might be using this house at all. A tube of toothpaste and a toothbrush in a cup by the faucet, a box of makeup on top of a shelf, and a package of pads on top of the medicine cabinet. Checking behind him to see if the laughter was still audible, he opened the cabinet. Inside he found a myriad of pill bottles, all labeled 'Zoloft'. Antidepressants, he figured. Perhaps she was holding them for a friend. Yeah, that's it, he thought to himself and repressed any further investigation down that path. He found himself questioning why he cared that she took these pills. Why should he care? She was just his roommate, not his wife or anything. If she needed the medication, he saw no reason why she shouldn't take it. But the amount of them still irked him. Leaning against the sink, he thought of how he felt about her. Neutral would be the word of the day in this case. Liz was a woman he knew for a couple of hours now, that's all. There was no doubt in his mind that she was attractive and that he had more than once caught himself looking down her cleavage, what little of it was visible beneath her chaste business suit. Maybe he fancied her? No, that couldn't be it, he told himself silently and shook his head lightly. Turning back towards the mirror, he looked into his own eyes and pondered quietly what if he did. One eye green and one eye blue, following her across the room. Heterochromia was very common in eagles and Michael was no exception. More than one he had been told that his eyes were unforgettable. Once again, he asked himself if these so-called 'unforgettable' eyes followed her across the room and if she had noticed. Mentally he kicked himself for his lack of self-control. Sure, she was attractive but something about her screamed trouble. It was obvious, and he laughed silently to himself. Antidepressants and a quintessentially empty house. More than once he asked himself where she was on weekdays and what she did when she came back from work. It was physically impossible for someone to actively inhabit a house and not leave traces of their presence behind.

Another burst of roaring laughter penetrated the door and Michael cringed. Once again, his own actions took him off-guard. What was that socially inept recluse doing? Was he really trying to get with someone who was obviously so far out of his league? As he unzipped his trousers to do what he came to do, he asked himself if he felt jealous. Not really, he just felt betrayed. But why? North had every right in the world to do what he wanted with her. Perhaps he felt like that because the childish feline did first what he should have done from the get-go. What happened at the front door didn't help much either. But then he suddenly stopped himself. Halfway through his last idea his thought process just stopped dead. Why did he assume that North was immature? He never saw him take much of an interest in anyone, besides this one girl back in high school. And that ended disastrously. Who said that North wasn't capable of flirting? Not to mention that he was attractive, from another man's perspective. And then it occurred to him. Yes, he did find Liz attractive and yes, he was going to do his best to make sure she felt the same way about him before North could do anything about it.

Satisfied with himself, he flushed the toilet, closed the door of the bathroom and triumphantly fell down the stairs.